Saving Shay (Florida Veterans Book 4)

by Tiffani Lynn

  Saving Shay

  Tiffani Lynn

  Saving Shay

  Copyright 2018 by Tiffani Lynn

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  For information contact Tiffani Lynn at www.tiffanilynn.com

  Editor: Twin Tweaks Editing

  Cover Design by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  Proofread by: Katie MacGregor

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to my MRAU sisters; Fiona Tulle, E. Kay Sims, Tara L. Ames and CD Bradley. I’ve found each of you to be supportive, kind and generous within our group and out in the world. Thank you for all you do!

  Contents

  1. Shay

  2. Paxton

  3. Shay

  4. Paxton

  5. Shay

  6. Paxton

  7. Shay

  8. Paxton

  9. Shay

  10. Paxton

  Epilogue

  Also by Tiffani Lynn

  One

  Shay

  "Boom!" I can still hear her little voice in my ear, saying that word with all the theatrics of a six-year-old looking for attention. "Shay, did you see that? I nailed it!"

  I wish I could turn back time and answer, "Yeah, Munchkin, I saw it. You did great!" Instead I can only have the memories of that day, and today, instead of bringing me comfort, they are irritating me, making me feel uncomfortable in my own skin and in the quiet of my solitude.

  Her voice rings out in my head again. "Come on, Shay! It’s too hot to work on the garden. Let’s go swimming!" I smile a little because she said that every day during summer break, and since it's hot enough to be considered summer I think I might listen.

  I set the rake against the fence and lift the hem of my ill-fitting sundress to wipe the sweat off my brow. Then I turn and head for the creek. The crickets silence as I walk past them but start back up once I’m farther down the path. The squirrels and birds are noisier than usual for some reason and I hope they quiet down closer to the creek. Peace is harder to find today than most days and I need a few minutes of it. Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, all the birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving and Fourth of July… They all suck. Unfortunately, today is Mother’s Day and the ghosts seem to be close. Maybe it would be better if my family disappeared from memory. Of course, I’d be lonelier than I am now because my memories seem to keep me company as much as they haunt me, but it wouldn’t be as painful.

  I go right over to the big old oak that's been on the bank of the creek for as long as I can remember and strip down to my birthday suit, leaving my clothes folded neatly against the trunk. There hasn’t been anyone other than me on this land in the five years since my grandma died, so there’s no need to wear anything. The sand on the creek bottom is soft as I wade out to the one spot deep enough to dunk under the cool water. Relishing the relief it brings, I spend several minutes just floating and relaxing, trying to clear the thoughts of my sister, Morgan, and her sweet little-girl voice forever stuck at six.

  With one last dip under the water I’m ready to get out and go back to work, but when I surface, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Something is off. I turn around in the waist-deep water, toward the path I used to get here, straining to hear if something sounds different, and just as I'm coming full circle I spot him. After a loud shriek, I drop back into the water and do my best to cover myself.

  The man startles and steps back. "Holy shit!" he barks and turns around, away from me. His hands go up above his head like the police are commanding it. "I’m sorry. I didn't know anyone was here. I won’t hurt you."

  "You’re trespassing!" I yell. My clothes are all the way over by his feet so I'm completely naked and vulnerable.

  "Not really. Well kinda." He glances back toward me until he catches my glare, and then he turns away again.

  "This is my land and I'm the only one who lives here so there is no way you aren't trespassing."

  "You're right. I own the land next door and we don’t have creek access so the family that used to live here would let me come through to use it. I haven’t been here in years. I should have asked if it was still okay. I’m sorry."

  "What land is yours?" I ask, not understanding. The people who owned the property next to us went to jail years ago and I assumed the state took possession of the property. There aren’t any other plots close to here since our two farms took up all the nearby acreage.

  He looks back to me again and I try to duck lower to hide myself. "Don’t turn around!"

  "Okay, how about you get dressed and then we can talk. It’s hard to concentrate with you naked only a few feet away."

  "Well, that would be nice, but you’re practically standing on my clothes!" I snip at him. I’m completely freaked that I’m naked and a strange man is only a few feet away. Who the hell is this guy?

  It’s not that I haven’t seen anyone in the last five years. I have, but it’s usually delivery people or the night clerks and stock guys at the grocery store. No one hangs out here and no one my age has been here since I was a kid. A few times as a teenager, but not since.

  "I’m going to lower my hands and move forward a few feet to give you room. You can get dressed."

  "How can I trust you?" I ask, my voice thick with suspicion.

  "Well you don't have to. I don’t mind having this conversation with you naked." He kind of chuckles and glances back. I catch sight of a dimple before he turns back around, and that damn cheek indent rustles something deep in my memory, giving me the distinct impression I know the owner of that dimple.

  "You stay where you are. Don’t turn around! I will freak out on you if you do," I boss him.

  His hands go back in the air as his body shakes with humor. "Don’t worry, I don't have a death wish so I’ll keep staring at this nice oak tree over here." The little chuckle that follows irritates me. I’m naked and he’s laughing.

  I hurry out of the water, tug my clothes on uncomfortably over my wet skin, and squeeze the water out of my hair. I should have brought a towel.

  "You can turn around," I tell him as I place my hands on my hips, annoyed by this whole thing.

  His close-cropped, light brown hair is a little messy and damp with sweat. Little crinkles flank his brown eyes, giving the impression that he smiles a lot. This guy has shoulders so broad that they pull his T-shirt tight across his chest. His shorts hang low in the front and brown deck shoes cover his feet. I mean for my eyes to give him a quick once-over, but I must linger a little too long because when I turn my gaze back to his face his dimple is deeper and his smile is wider than the one I saw a minute ago. My gut churns a little as my mind fights to reveal something buried within.

  When our eyes lock for the first time, his smile falls and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. "Shay?" he whispers. Something about the way he says it makes my gut clench tighter. There’s a familiarity in his voice that I can’t place and it's unsettling.

  "Shay Baird." He says it with a bit of reverence and the dimple returns. Damn, it’s frustrating knowing I should know that dimple and not being able to place it.

  He takes another step closer as his eyes scan me from head to toe, returning quickly to my eyes. I stay rooted to the spot as my brain sifts through hazy places, trying to locat
e the dimple.

  "You don’t know who I am, do you?"

  I have no idea why, but words escape me, so I shake my head.

  "Paxton Jones. Well, it's Pearsal now, but when you knew me it was Paxton Jones."

  Now it’s my turn to swallow hard. Memories break free of the haze and tumble through at warp speed.

  Paxton and me.

  Running through the cornfields with him on my heels both of us laughing the whole time.

  Paxton and me.

  Swimming in the creek in the middle of the day when we were supposed to be working.

  Paxton and me.

  Picking blackberries from the bushes that stretch the entire length of the two-mile road that runs in front of our properties.

  Paxton and me.

  Sneaking out late at night so we could catch fireflies and put them in jars like lanterns.

  Paxton and me.

  Inseparable.

  I had so many happy years with Paxton Jones until I made him go away. He was my best friend from the time we were about four years old until we were eleven years old. We did everything together. How did I not recognize him? Sure, it’s been probably 15 or 16 years since I last saw him, but we were closer than close. I loved him in a way that only a young girl can love her best friend.

  "Paxton." It’s my turn to whisper.

  His eyes soften and without another thought I step into him, wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face against his chest. I’ve obviously stunned him because it takes him a second or two to wrap his arms around me in return.

  I haven’t touched another human being in five years and the sensation is both comforting and foreign. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it until he squeezes me a little tighter and kisses the top of my hair.

  "I thought you’d be long gone from here," he mumbles against my hair.

  I shake my head but don't say anything. How do I elaborate on why I’m stuck in the same place that I was when he left when we were kids? I can’t. Not without totally losing it, embarrassing myself and making him seriously uncomfortable.

  "I didn’t see anyone at your house. I thought maybe it was abandoned until I saw the rake by the fence and the back door open at your granny’s. I just never dreamed it would be you here."

  I redirect him. "Pearsal?"

  "I was adopted by my foster family and I took their name. They were better to me than Brenda and Jared Jones ever were."

  My heart warms briefly, knowing that the next stop for him was better than what he had to live with next door. I worried about him for years when he was taken away.

  "Oh. I’m glad." I glance down, thinking about his parents who should never have been parents in the first place.

  He breaks my thought process when he asks, "Any chance I can get a glass of water from your place? It’s hot and the well is broken over at the farm. That's why I headed toward your farm in the first place. When I didn’t see anyone there, I figured I should get a drink from the creek for now."

  "Oh, okay. Yes, of course."

  I slip past him and head down the path toward the house, my dress sticking to my still-damp body in the most uncomfortable places. I can hear his footfalls behind me but he stays quiet. When I reach my parents’ house, I veer right to my granny’s old house. The thump of his feet stops and I turn back to see what he’s doing. He’s paused, looking between me and my parents’ old house.

  "I thought we were going to your house." His brows are drawn low over his eyes.

  "We are. I live at my granny’s old place."

  He opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but he must think better of it because he closes it and nods before following me the rest of the way. When we reach the porch I gesture toward the rocking chairs on one side. "You can have a seat, and I’ll get the water."

  He nods but continues staring at me like he has some questions, ones I won't want to answer. I ignore the churn in my gut at the thought of discussing anything about me and go inside, allowing the old screen door to bang closed behind me. I get two glasses of ice water and return to the porch to find him rocking in the brown chair with his head resting against the back and his eyes closed. There’s a thin line of sweat above his upper lip and more above his brows.

  Paxton grew up to be handsome. He was a cute little kid, but I wasn’t at an age to think of him in any sexual way. Well, not past having a first kiss. One of the last nights we snuck out to chase fireflies we ended up sitting by the creek. We were accustomed to talking about everything and I had seen a television show about a first kiss. After a few minutes of conversation about it, we decided to try it. Of course, it was just a peck on the lips, but neither of us could figure out what the fuss was about so we didn’t bring it up again.

  Now, Paxton’s all man. The perfect variety I’m used to seeing on television. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a trim waist, that deep dimple on one cheek, and long legs. There is one tooth, next to his eyetooth, that’s a little crooked, but otherwise he’s movie star material, the kind you can look at all day and not want to blink.

  I clear my throat, unsure of what to say. His eyes open and he reaches out toward the water in my hand. A slow, easy smile spreads on his face. "Thanks," he says as he takes it from me. A little shy still, my eyes flicker away and catch a glimpse of a tattoo that looks like it could be a skeletal frog peeking out of the shirtsleeve on his thick bicep.

  Instead of walking over to the other rocker I stand there like an idiot and stare at him as he downs the whole glass in one long drink. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and I can’t help but be mesmerized by it. When he finishes it off the ice clinks back in the glass and he gives me a sheepish look. "A little more, please?" The dimple is in full effect and I realize the potency of it. That one dimple is lethal.

  I nod, take the glass to refill it and return. Once again I stand in front of him like an idiot as he drinks, not quite as aggressively as he did last time. When he lowers the glass, I ask, "More?"

  "Nah," he replies, and the dimple comes to the forefront again. "Thank you though. I’m already feeling better. I’ll have to go back to town and get a case of water to get me through for the next day or two until I can get someone out here to fix the well. The electricity is on to the property, but I can’t stand to stay in the old house so I’m in a tent.”

  "A tent?"

  “Yeah, the house is nasty inside, and besides, I don’t have good memories of the place so I don’t want to stay inside before I do a major overhaul. Brenda and Jared left the place a filthy mess before they were dragged off to prison. I doubt anyone has been in the place for at least 14 or 15 years. Unless you know any different.”

  "No, I don’t think anyone went there after your parents were arrested. I don’t remember much about that time period. Not many people come out this way though. Just the sheriff and some delivery people. I’ve got no-trespassing signs up all over and people already think I’m nuts, so no one usually bothers.”

  He stops rocking and leans forward, elbows to his knees, glass in hand, and looks closer at me. "Why are you out here alone? This place used to be full of your family. It was the happiest place I knew before I moved in with the Pearsals."

  "I just like the quiet. My family has been gone for years." I stand, hoping to cut off the questions before they continue to a place I can't return to.

  "You’re welcome to go in and get more. There is a milk jug that's empty next to the sink if you want to fill it up for later. I need to get back to work on my garden. We’re supposed to have rain in the next day or so and I need to be ready."

  "Shay—"

  "Hey, listen. It was good to see you. We can catch up another time, but like I said, I need to get back to work," I tell him as I back away, practically running for my life. I’m actually running for my sanity. I don’t want to talk about the missing years from when he left up till now. That’s why I go to the grocery store in the middle of the night and have anything else I may need delivered out here
. I try never to run into people who might talk to me past casual conversation. A man like Paxton, from my past, is certain to ask questions I don't want to answer.

  Without another glance, I hurry down the steps and out back, not realizing I carried my water with me until I reach the garden. I take a big gulp of the water and set the glass by the fence. Then I retrieve the rake and get back to work. Although I’m cooler than I was before I went for my swim, I’m not relaxed. It wasn’t just the appearance of someone new on my property, but the fact that it was my old friend Paxton has unnerved me.

  I can’t even think about the hug I forced him into or the comfort I found at touching another human being after all this time. If I think about how handsome he’s grown up to be I will only be more mortified. I just need to block today out of my head and go back to work. I wish it were that easy though. How do I forget strong arms surrounding me and holding me close or the natural scent of his skin mixed with his deodorant? My body tingles just thinking about how masculine and beautiful he is.

  I haven’t really had that feeling past the times I’ve seen handsome actors on television. I went on a few dates with a boy in high school and had some excited butterflies, but then I had a nervous breakdown and lost any hope of dating in this town again. I just assumed that I’d never have those feelings myself and that I’d die alone out here on this property.

  Two

  Paxton

  That was the strangest reunion I’ve ever had. I didn’t expect to see her at all, much less naked in the creek like some version of Eve from the Garden of Eden. She was a cute little girl, but she has grown into a stunning woman. Of course, she’s not the kind of pretty I’m used to seeing—the kind with perfect dyed hair, a ton of makeup and the latest clothing styles. Shay’s auburn hair is long and probably hasn’t been cut in years. Her face is fresh without makeup and by the look of the dress she tugged over her head, she hasn’t been shopping recently. It was a little out of date and didn’t fit her very well.